Duo of Destiny
by The Rune Reverend
Summary: Allen is a charismatic hairdresser and Neil is a brooding recluse. Life-long rivals and never friends, they find themselves endowed with the Ragnarok Force, giving them superhuman powers. Now with the help of their mentor Dunhill, they fight to defend their home of Echo Village in Neotropolis from invading aliens, super-villans, and fight each other for the love of the same woman


**Prologue**

_My name is Dunhill and I'm an immortal._

_Funny thing, your memory. After you been around as long as I have, you tend to remember odd things and forget important things. Sometimes, I reckon, the gray stuff in-between my ears just gets tired and I'll go a while without remembering who I am or what I'm supposed to be doing._

_My life has been a whirlwind of simplicity interrupted by occasional bouts of wartime. But no matter what I live through or where I go or how muddied up my memory gets, I never forget the Ragnarok Prophecy._

_Actually, Prophecy is a bit of a stretch. It's more like a code. Real simple to remember: 777. The Seventh Sons born Seven generations after Seven hundred years. Not sure how it always falls like that, but it does. Takes a bit of time, mind you, to swing around and get to the particular point in history where those Seventh Sons are actually born, but when it does...it changes the world._

_I woke up this morning on a burlap cot in the Arizona desert and what felt like a hornet buzzing in my head. Weren't no bug, though. It's the Ragnarok Force. Showed up for the first time in centuries. And if it's calling out to me, it's gonna be calling out to the Seventh Sons, too. And once they got the Ragnarok Force, that's when shit starts getting' crazy._

_Shoot. I've got my work cut out for me now._

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**DUO OF DESTINY**

**Volume One: "Sons of Ragnarok"**

**Chapter One: Allen: The Scarlet Star**

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**Downtown Neotropolis, Business District**

On the 54th floor of the Hamilton Tower in downtown Neotropolis, a rather bored and work starved receptionist beside a set of wooden double doors in the silence of the business office. She absently fiddled with her computer, trying to milk the clock until it was time to leave. She heard the soft _'ding' _of the elevator and looked up, her eyes snapping wide open.

He stepped out with a style, a certain _flair _that immediately caught the eye of anyone he strode by. Tall, long-limbed, with a shock of spiked-and-feathered hair that shone a dark crimson. His bright blue eyes gazed upon the world through a pair of glasses, though they seemed to enhanced his visage rather than detract. Style was something he could easily claim to be clothed in: A black Italian blazer over a red silk shirt, black slacks, black shoes (Italian, of course) took her breath away as he cut a dashing figure and made a beeline directly for her desk. In his hand he carried a black briefcase.

The receptionist-Stacy, her nameplate read-swallowed quietly looking up at him. "M-may I help you, sir?"

He paused in front of her and flicked his wrist, extending in-between his fingers a red card cut in black trim and lettering: _**ALLEN SCARLETT. HAIR CRISIS MANAGER.**_

Stacy cleared her throat and said said, "I'm sorry, but Miss Iroha is scheduled for a one o'clock meeting at this time."

Suddenly, the intercom on her desk buzzed, _"Stacy! Cancel my One o'clock meeting and send that man in here."_

Stacy lifted her eyebrows in surprise. Her boss was not one to simply cancel a meeting lightly. However, she did as told and pressed a button that unlocked Ms. Iroha's door. Allen smiled and gave Stacy a short, courteous nod as he strode past her.

Once inside, Allen looked around at the lavishly furnished office. He stood in the midst of a business office set with a very unique Asian motiff-complete with paper doors, bansai trees, soothing music-very chic.

Sitting on the edge of a massive redwood desk was an attractive woman-early-ti-mid-thirties if he had to guess, but she obviously kept up with her looks-in a white silk blouse and work dress. But Allen noticed her hair more than anything: raven-colored, done up in an attempt at a bun with curls and waves.

Allen walked up her, pointing to her hair, "What is that?"

"Do you like it?" she asked, patting it.

"It's horrid." Allen said, "A cosmetology abortion if ever I've seen one. You tried to fix it yourself, didn't you?"

The woman, Ms. Ishawa, sighed and approached him, swaying her hips as her hands reached out to take his, "I can't do a thing with it, Mr. Scarlett."

Allen sighed and set his briefcase on the table. He unlocked it and opened it, revealing a pristine set of hair-cutting devices set into red velvet interior: scissors, trimmers, comb, brush, an electric roller, a folding hair dryer, mirror, a small spray bottle of water, holding spray, and a collection of hair pins and clips.

"I'll do what I can." Allen said, examining his tools. "I warned you about trying to go so elaborate with it. You need my expert skills for this."

Suddenly, Allen found himself pulled over to her desk by his collar. Before he knew what was happening, Ms. Iroha had laid him out on top of the desk and was straddling him at the waist, running her hands down his chest.

I need your...expert _touch_." She laid his hand on her hips.

Allen cocked an eyebrow, but smiled, "Now, Ms Iroha, you know I'm a professional."

"I know." She said, wrapping her arms around his neck, "But pleasure first, business second. Name your price."

Allen smiled as their lips brushed, "For you, my services are...free of charge."

Outside, Stacy the receptionist decided to be nosy and listened at the door for a few minutes to the sounds of muffled passion coming from behind the wooden double doors where her boss worked. She struggled to contain her anxious giggles and snickering. Finally, after the sounds ceased, she rushed back to her desk.

A few minutes later, the only sound coming from behind the door was the sound of scissors snipping away, followed by a small hair dryer

After an hour, Allen emerged from the office suite, briefcase in hand, where he straightened the sides of his blazer, looking no worse for wear. He looked aside to Stacy, who tossed him a smile and winked as he passed. Allen took out one of his business cards and set it on the desk in front of her, sliding it forward with a single finger. Stacy stared at the card, wide-eyed.

"Should you ever find yourself in need of my services." Allen said, with a wink and a smile, "Call me."

Stacy blushed a shade of red darker than his hair.

Allen walked off, tossing a look over his shoulder at Ms Iroha, who was showing off her new and improved hair style to Stacy. He could hear their whispered conversation.

"He's a miracle-worker."

"He's a stud."

"How does he do it?"

"No idea, but I intend to make myself a regular customer."

Allen stepped into the elevator and spun around with a smug grin on his face. "Another satisfied customer." He said to himself.

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**Author's Note: So we meet one of our main protagonists: Allen, our favorite hair stylist and, here, a bit of a charmer. Neil will pop in next chapter. I want to try and do smaller chapters so I can write them faster. Keep reading, I'll get to the superhero stuff in due time, I promise it'll be worth it. Let me know what you guys think! **

Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon and do not profit at all from this story.


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